


Things you do for the people you love

by Hepzheba



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Humor, M/M, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff and Derek hang out in the veggie section of the grocery story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hepzheba/pseuds/Hepzheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt was: "in attempts in getting derek and his dad to eat more fruit, stiles resorts to increasingly more annoying measures that provoke accidental outing of himself to his dad as well as his dad and derek bonding." I spell fruit as vegetable. There's also someone who eats people's pets (hint: it's not a mountain lion).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things you do for the people you love

**Author's Note:**

> ladyw1nter: I really enjoyed writing this prompt. Well, after I had stared at it for a few weeks. I didn't mean to change fruit to vegetables, but I hope it's okay. I'm sorry I took so long to finish it. Hope you'll enjoy it! (Original post can be found [here](http://hepzheba.tumblr.com/post/56806467403/i-really-enjoyed-writing-this-prompt-well-after).)
> 
> A special thanks goes to [Beth](http://foreverblue-navy.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing this on a short notice.
> 
> There might be some spoilers from season three, but I also ignored some things, so if you haven't watched the show you won't know what I've made up and what's from the show.
> 
> Until they decide to tell us his name, the sheriff is called John. He might be called John even if they decide to name him something else.
> 
> (And yes, I do know that the title sucks.)

Sheriff John Stilinski eyes the weird-looking, green _thing_ that – according to the label – is an artichoke. And according to the shopping list that his son so _kindly_ has written, he’s going to get one of those. John has honestly no idea why. What’s wrong with cucumbers? Cucumbers don’t taste weird, but apparently they’re “ninety-five percent water, dad”. John would deny making air-quotes in his head till his dying day.

He makes a face as he takes the artichoke and maybe throws it a bit more forcefully than necessary into the basket. He can only hope it will ruin it, but it probably won’t.

“Use a lot of salt and butter and it won’t taste too bad,” someone suddenly says to his right.

John looks up and sees Derek Hale standing a few feet away from him, scowling deeply at what looks like a purple cucumber in his hand. He’s wearing his usual outfit of too-tight jeans and a dark shirt. John has seen him around town a lot since he came back to Beacon Hills, but he’s never been approached by the younger man before. He knows Hale didn’t kill his sister (even though burying half her body _is_ kind of a weird thing to do). Hale isn’t a murderer, but there’s something not right about him either. John doesn’t know if it’s for good or bad. He hopes it’s for the former because he has seen Hale with Isaac Lahey and he knows Stiles and Scott has mentioned an Isaac quite a few times. He only hopes their friendship with Isaac doesn’t extend to Hale. 

“I’m not allowed salt and butter,” John sighs and Hale seems to know exactly what John means from the amused raise of his eyebrows and twist of his lips. Hale looks around and then steps closer, as if going to tell a secret, and maybe he is.

“The trick is to be sneakier than them,” Hale tells him, half in amusement. John has half a second to wonder who _them_ is, but then realizes Hale, too, has someone forcing him to eat things he doesn’t really like. He hasn’t seen Hale with a woman, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. John hasn’t exactly kept track on the man.

“How?” John asks, intrigued.

Hale gives half a shrug, “use your imagination.”

John’s lips quirk.

“Thanks for the tip,” he says, honest, and Hale nods in you’re welcome. “How do you make that _thing_ taste better?” He nods at the purple cucumber in Hale’s hand. He’s quite certain it tastes nothing like normal cucumber.

“You can’t,” Hale sighs heavily and puts the cucumber into his basket anyway.

 

John’s assumption was right, the artichoke is vile. Stiles looks expectantly at him from across the table and John forces out a smile.

“Not so bad,” he lies and Stiles’ whole face brightens. Maybe John can live through this only to please his son. He takes another bite and almost gags. No, nothing is worth this. Sneaky, it is.

“What’s that? I think there’s a phone ringing,” John says after he has managed to swallow the bite in his mouth.

Stiles stills and listens, “I don’t hear anything.”

“I can definitely hear a phone ringing,” John lies.

Stiles is up and out of the kitchen in the blink of an eye and John can hear him running up the stairs, two at a time by the sound of it. He hurries up from his seat with his plate in hand. He shoves more than half of the food on his plate down the disposer before grabbing the salt and pouring on a liberal amount. He hears the sound of Stiles coming down the stairs again at a more leisure pace, and he quickly sits down at the table, grabs his fork and shoves food into his mouth.

“Who was it?” he asks when Stiles sits down again, even though he knows Stiles’ phone never rung and if it had Stiles wouldn’t have ended a call that quickly.

“It didn’t ring.”

John hums noncommittally. Stiles is looking at him funnily though and John wants to bang his head in the table when he knows he’ll soon get an invite to an audiologist.

 

It’s two weeks later when John once again is standing in front of the vegetable stand, frowning down at the shopping list in his hand.

“Problems?” Someone asks at his left.

He looks up and is once again met by Derek Hale.

“I have no idea what this is,” John says, “aubergine… Isn’t that the natives of Australia?”

There’s an amused twist of Hale’s lips, “no, that’s Aborigine.”

“Huh.”

Hale reaches and grabs a purple cucumber to hand over to John. “This is an aubergine. Or more commonly known as eggplant.”

“Huh,” John says again. “You’re quite the expert, aren’t you?”

“Two weeks ago I had no idea those things even existed. And I was happy not knowing.”

John surprises himself by laughing.

“The things we do for the people we love,” John huffs, not meaning Hale to hear.

“Yeah,” Hale agrees in a low tone and the fond smile is not meant for John at all.

 

“So, you and Scott are friends with Isaac Lahey, right?” John says two nights later.

He may be a cop and a sheriff at that, but when it comes to his son he sucks at being subtle. He’s been dying to ask since that last meeting with Hale.

“Yeah, I guess,” Stiles answers without looking away from his computer screen, he seems to be busy reading about some weird fantasy animal with fangs and wings. If Stiles put half of the concentration on school work instead of games and fantasy creatures John wouldn’t have to try to answer why his son wrote an essay about the male circumcision. For his economy class, nonetheless. John leans against the door frame.

“And he’s friends with Derek Hale, right?”

Stiles finally looks up from his computer, “I guess. I mean, you could say they’re friends, but I think they’re more like family. Driving each other nuts and being all-” Stiles waves his hands in a way that is supposed to describe what Isaac and Hale are, but John has no idea what Stiles actually means. He decides to let it pass.

“Family, huh?” he says and Stiles nods.

“Yeah, well, Isaac moved in with Derek after his dad died.”

John didn’t know this. He guesses now, at least, he has the answer to who it is that makes Hale buy all the vegetables he doesn’t even like.

Stiles turns back to his computer, clicking at something and an even uglier beast comes up.

“No, this one doesn’t have wings,” John hears him mutter to himself as he turns. He rolls his eyes and wonders what game exactly Stiles needs all the research for. Probably that World of Witchcraft.

 

It’s just a few days later and John is once again standing next to Derek Hale in the vegetable section of the grocery store.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” John says and Hale huffs in slight amusement.

“Apparently you have to eat more than red meat,” Hale says and John can hear that he is quoting someone else.

“Isaac is driving you hard, huh?”

Hale visibly freezes and John thinks he might have crossed a line.

“It’s not Isaac,” Hale says, his words sound carefully chosen.

“I thought you lived together.”

Hale’s eyes widen in understanding at what John is suggesting and it’s almost comical.

“What? No. Or yes, Isaac lives with me but it’s not like that. He’s more like a brother. He hates these vegetables as much as I do.”

“Sorry,” John hurries to say. He is sorry to see that the easy-going companionship they have shared up until now is gone. “Stiles said you two lived together and I just made the conclusion that… well, that Isaac was the one who-” He waves awkwardly at the vegetables.

Hale shakes his head, but he doesn’t seem to relax.

“No, I…”

“Don’t worry, I don’t care who you date,” John says, trying to make Hale relax. His words seem to have the opposite effect though.

“I have to go,” Hale says and disappears without having grabbed any of the weird, healthy vegetables.

John obviously crossed a line there. He sighs and grabs another not-cucumber-nor-Australian, Stiles seems to have grown fond of them.

 

John is on his way to the station after interrogating a witness after the latest animal attack (John seriously _hates_ these animal attacks and he’s not even sure what kind of animal could climb over the six feet fence and take down four guard dogs and then escape again. The ninety-three year old neighbor had claimed the animal had been flying over the fence because _it had wings, you see, Sheriff_ ) when he has to stop at a red light.

He scrubs tiredly at his face and turns to watch the diner to his right. The tables outside are full of people, basking in the afternoon sun. He sees the familiar brown hair first, then the back of a plaid shirt and, at last, the long fingers flexing as if explaining something to his friends. John can only see Stiles’ back, but Scott and Isaac, who are both across from Stiles are snickering and John can’t keep the smile of his own face. A dark figure comes up to the table and John stares as Derek Hale sets down one of the trays he’s been carrying in front of Stiles before slipping onto the seat right next to Stiles, so close their shoulders are touching. Stiles says something to him, his face turned, and Hale shoves him playfully with his shoulder, but John can’t see any of their faces, only the laughing faces of Scott and Isaac.

A loud horn is waking him and he notices the light has turned to green. He leaves his son with his friends and plans to have another talk with Stiles about how close he actually is to Hale.

 

He doesn’t get to have that conversation with Stiles though, because Stiles keeps asking about the animal that has been attacking people’s pets lately. Just yesterday John was at a farm that had had four of their cows ripped apart by this creature. John is quite sure it’s not a mountain lion, even if that’s what they have agreed to tell the public, because the fences around the cows where too high and of high voltage, designed to keep predators of that kind outside. Unless the mountain lion had mutated and learned to fly or gotten opposable thumbs to be able to turn off – and on! – the electricity, there’s no way a mountain lion killed those cows.

John tells Stiles to stay out of it and that he has to be inside after nine at night. Stiles rolls his eyes and mutter something inaudible under his breath. John knows Stiles won’t obey his orders and he prays Stiles won’t get hurt.

He does meet Hale the next night at the grocery store, though. Hale is standing with a broccoli in his hand and a pained expression on his face.

“I hear those are filled with healthy things,” John says in greeting, and Hale huffs an amused laugh. The tension from their last meeting seems to have disappeared.

“If only it tasted better,” Hale nods and the heavy sigh is one John can relate to.

“How long have you been seeing my son?”

As mentioned before, when it comes to his son, and things related to him, John sucks at being subtle. Hale drops the broccoli onto the floor and his eyes flick to John’s belt, as if looking if John carries his gun even when in civilian clothes (John does, but not where people can see it).

“I…” Hale says and his eyes flick to the door, as if contemplating running. John is not ashamed to admit that he is amused, and a bit proud, to see that he can scare the shit out of a bad boy like Hale just by asking how long the man’s been friends with his son.

“He told you?” Hale asks at last, his eyes flicking between John’s face and his nearest escape route.

“I saw you the other day,” John says and crosses his arms in a way he does when he’s had enough of Stiles’ or a criminal’s shit. He often uses the same techniques to make both Stiles and the criminals talk, not that he’s ever telling anyone that. His son is not a criminal – even though his record, with stealing a police van and kidnapping a fellow classmate, seems to beg to differ.

Hale visibly swallows and lets his arms hang at his side, his fingers spread, as if preparing himself to either fight or fly. John almost feels sorry for the kid.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about it that way,” Hale says and he seems to mean it.

“Don’t worry,” John says, pitying him.

“So you’re okay with it?” Hale says as if expecting John to have shot him for being friends with Stiles. John wonders if he should be flattered or not. He also wonders if this is because of something Stiles has said or because of his position as a sheriff.

“Yeah, as long as you’re not buying him, them – you’re friends with Scott too, right?” Hale nods. “Don’t buy them drugs or alcohol or something like that.”

Hale seems to relax somewhat and he nods, “I won’t. I- I care about him. About Stiles.”

John feels something tender in his chest at the clear uncertainty in Hale’s eyes. The man is older than Stiles and his friends, sure, but the uncertainty he has is the same as that of a teenager and John thinks he understands why the man has friends younger than himself.

“So do I,” John smiles at him and Hale seems to take that as a cue to leave.

John snickers when he sees the broccoli Hale dropped on the floor.

 

John is sitting on the couch, half-dozing late at night to some movie on the TV, when there’s a loud bang from outside. He’s up and alert in the matter of a second, reaching for his gun. The gun he isn’t carrying.

“Stiles?” he calls up the stairs as he makes it to the safe to retrieve his gun.

“Don’t go out, dad!” Stiles calls in a panicked voice and that is not something you tell a sheriff.

John takes his gun and walks to the door. Stiles comes down the stairs when he reaches the hallway.

“Dad, don’t!” he says, gripping John’s arm. His brown eyes are wide with fear and John understands his son’s concern, but he’s an officer of the law, he _needs_ to find out what made the sound.

There’s another bang, this time on the window beside the door and there’s a huge splat of blood as if someone threw a bag of blood onto the pane. John tries to push Stiles in the direction of the stairs, but Stiles refuses to budge.

“Dad, please, don’t go outside,” he pleads, his voice low and shaking. “It’s the thing that’s been killing animals. You can’t- it- You can’t kill it.”

If John wasn’t in a hurry to get out he would ask what his son was talking about, but he needs to take his responsibility as the town’s sheriff. Stiles tries to take his arm again, but John pushes him away mildly.

“Dad, please, it’ll hurt you.”

“Stiles, get _back,_ ” John hisses as he reaches for the door handle. Stiles stays by his side so John pushes his son behind himself. “Stay behind me.”

Stiles nods and there are tears in his eyes. John wants to pull his son up to his chest and never let him go, but now is not the time. There’s a thud on the roof and John wonders what kind of creature will meet them outside.

“If I tell you to get back, you _will_ get back into safety, understood?”

Stiles nods again, probably too scared to even talk. John can feel his son’s fingers clenching at his shirt and wishes he had more time to get Stiles to understand that he shouldn’t follow John outside.

He pushes the door opened quietly, it doesn’t make a sound and John is thankful for the fact that Stiles took the liberty to oil the hinges just two weeks ago. On the porch, below the bloody window lies a small dog that’s almost torn into two pieces. A low sob escapes Stiles from behind John. There’s no other sound, not even crickets playing. John has a bad feeling about this.

He’s out onto the lawn when Stiles tugging at his shirt makes him turn towards his house. Stiles is staring up onto the roof and when John follows his gaze he sees something he couldn’t even imagine ever seeing. The dark beast – there’s no other name for it – is probably around six feet tall, standing on top of the roof. It has large wings spread out behind it, horns from its forehead and red, gleaming eyes. Below the eyes is a large mouth filled with what looks like razor-sharp teeth and it has two large arms that ends with large hands with only three fingers. On the fingers are large claws and something is dripping from the claws on one of the sides. Probably blood from the dog, John realizes.

The beast lets out a hiss that chills John to his bones. It rolls its head, like a boxer warming up. John grabs Stiles’ sweater and pushes his son in behind himself. The beast lowers itself and John sees the moment right before it pounces, straight at them. John fires at the beast and the bullets makes it miss its target, it crouches on the lawn, some ten feet from them. It hisses again and John starts shooting at it. The bullets hit the beast right in the chest, but they don’t seem to hurt it at all. It hisses again and then it runs at them. John is about to take the hit, keeping Stiles behind him when he is shoved out of the way. He falls on the damp grass and looks up just in time to see the beast takes a swing of one of its large arms. The claws hit Stiles’ side and his son his thrown to the side.

“Stiles!”

John shoots at the beast until there are no bullets left, the beast doesn’t even seem to care. It slowly walks over towards John, like a predator stalking the prey, John unhelpfully thinks. Suddenly there’s a loud roar and for a moment John thinks the roar came from the beast, but then there’s something else in between John and the beast. He doesn’t have time to see what the other creature is, only that it is smaller, more human in shape, and have claws too (though five of them on each hand). There are hisses and growls as the two creatures fight. They both have red eyes; the newly-arrived creature’s eyes are a deeper shade though.

There are suddenly two, no three, more creatures and they all attack the larger beast. The three all have golden eyes, but they’re definitely the same kind of creature as the one with the darker red eyes. They’re all more human in shape even if there are claws and fangs. They seem to be working together; they each attack different sides and John sees them claw at one of the beast’s huge arms when it tries to take a swing at one of their pack mates.

John moves back from the fight and tries to sneak round to get to Stiles, who’s on the other side of the fight, but the fight keeps him from his son. Stiles still hasn’t moved since he took the hit and John is afraid of getting there too late.

Suddenly there’s an arrow embedded in the beast’s chest and that is definitely the work of a human. John doesn’t see where the arrows keep coming from, but it looks like somewhere in the trees. There’s suddenly yet another creature attacking the beast from behind, this one has the same red eyes as the first creature that attacked the beast. The newest creature sticks onto the beast’s back despite the beast’s attempt to get him off, and reaches around to claw at the beast’s throat. It takes him several attempts, but suddenly there’s a hissing, guttural sound and the light from the beast’s eyes go out as it falls down on its front. The other moves away quickly and they all look at the beast they have just killed. They all have their back to John – they look just like humans from behind – and he wonders what they will do to him and Stiles.

“Stiles!” he gasps and curses himself for forgetting about his son for even a second.

The non-humans turn towards him and he recognize almost all of them.

“Scott? Isaac?”

Hale is the one talking though, “where’s Stiles?”

John doesn’t say anything but Hale follows his gaze and then with unnatural speed he’s next to John’s son’s body. Scott is right next to Hale and even though John has known Scott since he was a small boy, he’s terrified that they will hurt his son. He gets up and he almost slips on the grass when he runs over to them. A hand keeps him from falling and a girl he doesn’t know is by his side, keeping him steady. Her eyes are now brown instead of gold now and she doesn’t have claws or fangs, but there is blood splattered on her face and a wound on her cheek. She seems friendly though.

John sinks down onto his knees next to Scott. Hale is cradling Stiles’ upper-body in his arms and there’s a large tear in Stiles’ shirt. There’s so much blood.

“Is he-?” John isn’t able to finish the question.

Scott shakes his head, his bloody hands cradling one of Stiles’, “the wound isn’t that big, he’s just unconscious.”

John wants to ask how Scott even knows this, but he can’t find the words, he is just so relieved Stiles is still with them. A hand is squeezing his shoulder briefly and when he looks up he sees the face of Stiles’ classmate Allison Argent. She has a bow strapped onto her back and John would be surprised if it wasn’t for the two-thousand-pound, dead beast lying a few feet behind him.

“It’ll probably need stitches, though,” someone is saying. The girl from earlier. “Come on, Der.”

John turns to see Hale bent low over Stiles, so low their foreheads are touching. Hale is shaking and a sob escapes him as he pulls Stiles even closer.

Realization hits John hard in the chest. Stiles hasn’t been seeing Hale as a friend. Stiles has been seeing Hale as in dating Hale. Stiles has been the one who made Hale eat all those vile vegetables. John suddenly remembers something he said on one of encounters in the store, _the things we do for the people we love_ , and Hale’s smile that wasn’t at all meant for John.

Jesus, Derek Hale is in love with John’s son.

He did not see that one coming.

Right now he needs to get Stiles to the hospital though. He starts to rise and a hand is extended by Isaac to help him up. He smiles in thanks and then claps Hale – maybe he should start calling him Derek now? – on the shoulder.

“He’s okay,” he says, “let’s get him to the hospital.”

“No, not the hospital,” Scott hurries to say. “To the vet.”

John gives him a look as if Scott has lost his mind and expects the others to share this opinion. It turns out the vet, Scott’s boss, isn’t surprised at all to be at his clinic stitching up an eighteen year old in the middle of the night. He makes them all, except for Scott who is assisting him, sit down in the waiting room instead of being in there with him. Hale – Derek – is standing by the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He has several cuts on his arms and torso, as has the rest.

“Don’t the rest of you also need stitches?” John asks and they all – except for Derek – look at each other as if fighting quietly amongst themselves who’s going to explain this.

“We’ll heal,” Derek is the one who finally breaks the silence. He doesn’t say anything more though.

“What, exactly, are you?” John asks warily, he’s not even sure he wants to know.

Another silent battle seems to take place before Isaac is the one who sighs, he clearly lost, “Werewolves.”

“Werewolves,” John repeats quietly. He knows things like werewolves shouldn’t exist, but he was attacked by a beast with claws and fangs and freaking wings, and then saved by not-quite humans. He actually thinks they’re telling the truth. It’s either that or someone has been drugging him. For some reason, the werewolf story seems more likely.

“All of you?” John looks at Allison and Lydia – when did the Martin girl even get here? – but the girls shake their heads.

“And my son? Is he-?”

“He’s human,” the girl John hasn’t seen before replies. The dark boy beside her hasn’t said anything yet, but John has seen him at school with Stiles so the girl probably goes there too. John breathes a sigh of relief even though he wasn’t even aware that he was nervous that his son could be a werewolf.

“And he’s dating you,” John says to Derek and in the corner of his eyes he sees the rest of them freeze.

Before he has time to say anything the door to the examination room opens and Scott and Deaton steps out. John and Derek are both in front of them in no time.

“He’s okay,” Deaton says and claps Derek’s shoulder, they seem to be familiar with each other. John wonders how many times Deaton has stitched up these supernatural kids. “He’s awake, if you want to see him.”

“You wait here,” John points at Derek and his shoulder’s sags but he doesn’t follow John into the room. Stiles is trying to sit up when John walks in, but John can see him wincing at the pull on the stitches and forces him down onto his back again.

“Look, dad, I can explain,” Stiles tries but John interrupts him.

“Werewolves, I know, son.”

“You… know?”

John nods and takes Stiles’ hand, the only part he dares to touch without hurting his son.

“Yeah, they told me. But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Stiles nods.

“I’m glad,” John says. “And I’m glad you’re okay. I-”

“I know, dad.”

“And that beast that attacked us, it’s been killing peoples’ pets?”

Stiles nods and John sighs heavily, “I _knew_ it wasn’t a mountain lion.”

Stiles chuckles and John has so many questions he wants to ask his son and his friends, but they can all wait.

“Only you, son, could manage to get caught up in all this,” John says after a moment of silence, but there’s only exasperated fondness in his voice. Stiles grins at him. He can’t help but smile back. John decides to change the subject. Well, kind of.

“So, you and Derek Hale, huh?”

Stiles blanches and struggles up to sit up on the table, “please, don’t shoot him!” and John wonders where exactly he went wrong if his son thinks he’s going to shoot his boyfriend.

“Would a bullet hurt him?” he asks anyway.

“Not a regular bullet, no. Not much at least,” Stiles says, before clamping his mouth shut as if regretting giving his dad any ideas. John can’t help but smile a bit.

“He’s good to you?”

Stiles nods and there’s a glow in his eyes that makes his heart clench.

“And he loves you,” John doesn’t say it like a question because he knows the answer, but Stiles seems to take it as one.

“We’re not really there yet.”

His son fingers nervously at his jeans.

“You force him to eat vegetables,” John states and Stiles looks confused. “Let’s just say me and Derek have bonded over our mutual hate for healthy food.”

Stiles’ face scrunches up, as if trying not to laugh, but then the giggle bubbles out of him anyway.

“I’m not sure he- uhm… you know,” Stiles says and he looks younger and more uncertain than he has looked in years.

John steps closer to his son, “Look, kid, a man would never eat all that crap for someone they didn’t love. Trust me.”

The brightness of Stiles’ smile makes John’s heart clench.

“And besides, he told me he loves you.”

“He did what?”

There’s suddenly wolf-whistles and laughter from outside and Stiles cracks up.

“Supernatural hearing,” he says, pointing to his ears, “they’ve probably heard most, if not all, of our conversation. Werewolves are nasty creatures that way,” he says, his voice a bit louder, “never letting you have any privacy.”

“Then Derek will know that if he ever hurts you I _will_ find the kind of bullets that hurt him.”

Stiles chuckles at him and John pulls him into a hug. “I love you, son.”

“I love you, too, dad,” Stiles says and then snickers, “If you ever need help hunting down Derek, go to Chris Argent for help, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to assist.”

John rolls his eyes and Stiles chuckles before he turns serious, “did he really say he loves me?”

“Not directly,” John says, “but trust me, Stiles, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

When Derek and the others are let into the room later John knows he’s right just from seeing the way Derek is looking at his son, he seems to think Stiles hung the moon.

 

John and Derek are seated across from one another in the garden waiting for Stiles to bring out whatever he has cooked today. Derek looks like he might flee any second.

“Do you think there’s a way out?”

John shakes his head, “not if you don’t want to break his heart.”

Derek remains seated. They both smile when Stiles comes out to join them, setting down the casserole on the table. Derek looks like he’s going to be sick when he looks at the greenish sludge.

“Everybody, dig in,” Stiles says and then serves Derek and John a liberal amount onto both of their plates.

John and Derek share a look and John is the first to take a taste. Stiles looks expectantly at him so he smiles even though he wants to spit it out again.

“Good,” he says around his mouthful. He knows all about werewolf hearing and the fact that Derek can hear him lying. But John knows Derek’s lying, too, even without the supernatural hearing, when Derek smiles at Stiles and says it’s delicious. Stiles beams at them both and takes a taste of the meal. His smile disappears and he spits the food out again.

“Oh, god! That’s disgusting!”

He almost gags and gulps down a full glass of water. Derek looks uncertainly between John and Stiles and John, too, is at a loss at what to do.

“You said it was good!” Stiles says and takes turn pointing at them both accusingly.

“We lied,” John admits and then Stiles is laughing so hard he almost falls off his chair.

“You lied? Why?”

Derek gives him a sheepish look and Stiles stops laughing.

“Oh, god, you love me,” he whispers, his brown eyes wide as he’s staring at Derek.

John rolls his eyes, of course they haven’t said those things to each other, even if John told Stiles six weeks ago that Derek was head over heels.

“That’s why you’re eating everything I cook even when Scott and Isaac say it’s disgusting.”

Derek looks even more sheepish. John starts to clear away the table even though they haven’t eaten much. He thinks he doesn’t need to be there when Derek says those three words for what clearly is the first time. He carries their plates inside and when he comes back outside Stiles is half-way into Derek’s lap kissing him as if his life depended on it. John clears his throat loudly and Derek shoves a reluctant Stiles off.

“What do you boys say about pizza?” he asks and Derek nods.

Stiles grumbles, but agrees. John clears away the rest of the table and when he locks the door he can hear Stiles nagging at Derek, begging to hear those words Derek has obviously spoken, once again.

“I love you,” Derek grumbles at last and Stiles whoops, making John chuckle. “Lord knows why, but I do.”

“I know the feeling,” John says and claps Derek on the shoulder before ushering them towards his car. He’s planning on having a large pizza with extra cheese and he’s quite sure Derek can provide the distraction for his son that John will get away with it. 

**Author's Note:**

> The girl that John doesn't know the name of is supposed to be Cora, but I guess she could be Erica, too.
> 
> If you want to join me in my madness, you're free to do so on [Tumblr.](http://hepzheba.tumblr.com/) If you want to leave me prompts, you're welcome to do that, too.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Things You Do for the People You Love (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822555) by [RosaleenBan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaleenBan/pseuds/RosaleenBan)




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